


Like Tidal Waves

by Untertag



Category: Original Work
Genre: Past Drug Use, Short Story, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Untertag/pseuds/Untertag
Summary: On a regular day ex anti-war activist and ex drug trafficer and work in progress ex drug addict Yair Joffe is about to lose the new normality in his life that he just managed to aquire.Mature rating for touching on heavier subjects.





	Like Tidal Waves

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written by a whim after a flash of inspiration to explore my character Yair and his story.

Yair observed his reflection in the mirror.   
Dark shadows had made themselves a home beneath his eyes, one brown and one blue, and his medium skin was paler than it used to be. Beard stubble threatening to transition into a full beard soon. He stroke over the left side of his head. It was time to shave it again yet he lacked to motivation to pluck in his electric shaver. The battery had run out a week ago.   
It wasn't that important.  
Yair yawned and opened the cabinet. Before the mirror completely turned away from him he got a glance of the clock behind him. One hour until he had to meet up with his addiction counselor. The reason he was attempting to make himself at least a little presentable. She was very adamant about good hygiene and appearance when he visited her.  
He rolled his eyes to himself and got ready within the next ten minutes.  
From his messy bed he got the least smelly cloth he had left over. A red checkered button down shirt that he almost couldn't button up appropriately. He remembered a time when he was thinner and in shape. He petted his soft belly before he put on black pants and put on suspenders.  
He sighed, grabbed his keys and left the one room apartment that he called his home.

Yair walked among people who had to leave for their morning shift. It was hectic but he didn't let himself get bothered by people running past him and sometimes bumped into him as they sprinted past. Some delivery people raced each other to clients waiting for their food and in the process annoyed drivers on the street so much that they made use of their horns. That was what made Yair flinch a little. So noisy.  
The general traffic flared out after he had walked for about fifteen minutes and turned into a side street. It was just a little short cut to get into the city center where his addiction counselor had her office.  
The narrower street mostly held the entrances to homes with only a few stores set in between. Some artists gallery that never seemed to be open but held nice paintings of landscapes, a funeral parlor with elegant urns in its window and a tv shop that had the news running as long as it was open. Yair stopped in front of the latter store and watched a screen.   
A couple month back the neighboring countries had started a war that now had also drawn in their military to aid the defending nation.   
Blank eyes met the violence that war reporters captured on camera. It was weird how numb he had gotten to this. Once he had been a front runner in anti war and military protests as this outcome had been rather obvious for years. At least to him and some of his like minded allies. And now he couldn't even remember why this happened in the first place.  
The on site report ended and it switched back to the studio. The subtitles read the nation leaders were about to make official speeches on the situation and set demands to even consider ceasing fire.  
Averting his gaze he continued his way. 

He sat in front of the desk in a very tidy and bright little office. It had taken a couple minutes for his eyes to stop hurting from the brightness. Yair faced a tiny and round woman. Her face held the potential to look soft and friendly but those notions seemed to have left her many years ago. Yair imagined that she must have and had many tough cases that drained her energy.   
They had gone through their usual talk about how his week had been. If he had shown up for his social work. How he felt. And so on.   
“You have made progress, I guess.”, said the woman with an undertone of slight surprise.  
The corners of Yairs lips rose just a little.  
“Thank you, I guess.”  
“Have you visited your psychiatrist this week? I don't seem to have gotten the proof for that.”  
She flipped through a couple of notes.  
Yair didn't reply. Instead he reached into his pocket and slid a piece of paper over the table.  
“I didn't. I had a doctors appointment at that time.”  
She unfolded the paper and gave it a read before she stared tired daggers at him.  
“Do I have to remind you...”  
“That you can make me go back to jail? I remember that. It was an exception, I promise.”  
The look on her face made it very clear that she didn't believe him. Yair couldn't blame her as much as he didn't care about it. He was on the road to recovery for himself and not for her. No matter how tired he was of all of this.  
“Well then. I think there is nothing more for today. I hope that you'll better yourself again until next week. And shave that beard of before it grows legs and runs away.”  
Probably not.  
“Sure. Thanks for your time.”  
The big man rose and left without more pleasantries. He had to mentally ready himself to even show up for his work at the shoemakers.

Out on the street again on the way to his place of work he found himself at a familiar old fashioned building on a corner.   
Yair stood right in front of it and turned around to dwell in a couple of memories. Here just a couple years ago he often waited on the lackeys of his boss to smuggle drugs. It seemed off now that he got involved with those people and he wouldn't want to get dragged onto this path again.  
He kept tap on all of the people that got arrested thanks to him. They all had reason to foster a grudge since all of them lost more than him and didn't walk away with a deal like he had.   
In the end.. the world was a better place with them locked away and hopefully being gently reformed.   
Maybe it was ridiculous but some of these guys had the potential to be good people. Before his betrayal he had formed good relationships with the lackeys.  
Yair blinked back to the here and now. The day had just started and he wanted to get some cheap breakfast in before he went to work.  
Walking off he jaywalked across the street. Barely any cars were around so it was fine. All in all traffic had quieted down both on the street and sidewalks since he had his appointment. It made him feel lighter. Not as much like a rock in stormy water.  
On the other side he paused. Engines of planes were heard from far above.  
Yair raised his head and squinted. Air force planes.  
It was a little off putting to see them in the air. The conflict was very far away and as far as he knew the only air support that was sent their allies way had been sent from closer to the border. In theory these people didn't have reason to fly over the town. Even for air force soldiers in training.  
Yair counted four fighter planes flying south and each of them was a bitter reminder of the fight he and a lot of like minded people had lost. It was tragic even without him being able to recollect why exactly.  
Not being able to do anything for the greater good he continued on his way.

With his appetite satisfied he left the fast food place several streets away from his apartment building. With a bag in his hand that contained a meal for tomorrow. He couldn't help himself there was that feeling that he would skip work tomorrow.  
Nearing the end of the street a wailing sound blared from several speakers from all around.   
Yair stopped abruptly as did all the other pedestrians and drivers alike. The sound came in even waves and it chased liquid terror into everyone that recognized it.  
An air strike was coming their way.  
People immediately began to dart all over the place while Yair again stood like a rock in the ocean. He stared at the sky with disbelief until someone bumped into him.   
Clutching his bag he started to sprint without thinking. Did the city even have bunkers for cases like this?  
For a man of his size he could get fast once his mass was in motion but the agility had left with his ability to see his feet without pressing his belly back.   
This wasn't a test run. This was the real deal. His head went empty. He just ran as fast as he could with no clear goal in mind. He just followed the people headed in vaguely the same direction.

Yair still ran when the first explosions set off around the city center that he just left. It was still near enough that the sheer force shattered windows and ripped roof tiles off, creating more flying projectiles. He rose his arms up and shielded his head as good as he could. Then he lost contact to eht ground beneath him. The following shock wave drove him forward and into a parked car. Air got knocked right off of him and still determined to flee he pushed himself off the trunk but then his foot caught the rim of the sidewalk.  
He couldn't safe himself from the fall as his body mass worked against him. Yair hit his shoulder and head on the hard concrete. Pain flashed hot and white in front of his eyes. He couldn't get up right away. The pain of the fall had him on the ground and then.. it was cold fear that kept him in place.  
Dark, big and slow it floated high above. A bomber.   
For a couple unbearable seconds he saw himself as a dead man for surely there would be more bombs to fall in just a moment.  
But none fell.  
“Mister! Are you hurt? Can you get up?”  
Yair snapped out of his paralyzed state and yanked his head around to meet the concerned looks of two armed soldiers. At least they looked like some.  
“You know.. I was just cloud gazing.”, he said flatly but with a weak voice.   
Then he pushed himself up to a sit and two pair of hands helped him afterward to fully rise. The fall had been bad for his ankle. It hurt as he put weight on it. Steadying himself with the help of the car he had been thrown against he faced the two soldiers.  
“Thanks guys.”  
The two nodded to him. Their faces hidden by their helmets.  
“Head this way.”, one of them said and pointed down the street. “Turn right and follow the leads of our colleagues to a bunker. I'm afraid we can't bring you there.”  
Yair nodded his head yes.  
“Got it.”  
“Stay safe.”  
Well he would do his best.  
The soldiers ran off while engine noises from above made Yair flinch. Another plane flew over head. It didn't seem to be an enemy plane however.  
As fast as he now could he hobbled down the street to the crossing. From afar he could see the sidewalk and the road itself full of people. All of them running in one direction.   
Most of them were like him. With nothing but their cloth on them and some minor wounds. Some carried children and some had the chance to take things from their home with them.   
Some soldiers came into view who did their best to stifle the panic in the crowd to avoid injuries or worse casualties by trampling.  
Yair slowed as he was still some meters away from them. Panting he looked back and checked the sky.   
Bursts of fire could be seen in the distance among the smoke clouds from the former city center.   
Planes came through the smoke screen. Heading south.


End file.
